To Be Thankful
by mezzogal
Summary: Shadowhunters don't celebrate mundane festivals. That is, until Tessa Gray arrives. This is the tale of when Thanksgiving came to the London Institute.
1. Chapter 1

Will and Jem staggered tiredly up the stairs of the old abandoned-looking chuch. The thick fog swirled around them and stuck in their throats and gear, mingling with the demon ichor, slime and mud already on it.

Will got to the door first and yanked at the handle. It didn't open. Jem leaned wearily against the door frame and watched his parabatai curse vehemently at the moisture in the air which was making the door stick just as they wanted to go home. Will struggled with the door for a while longer before he finally managed to force it open.

Inside, the London Institute was warm and dry. It was dim but the witchlight affixed to sconces in the wall flared up when the boys entered. They breathed a sigh of relief.

Jem headed to the stairs that led to the residential area of the Institute. "Will?" he asked when he saw his parabatai fail to follow him.

"You go on, I need a rest first," Will said. Jem shrugged, too tired to argue, and disappeared up the stairs. Will remained in the entryway for a minute, allowing his spent seraph blades to fall carelessly onto the floor. He also undid his weapons belt and dumped it unceremoniously next to the blades.

Thus relieved of the heavy encumbrances, he trudged into the drawing room. It was empty but there was a small fire going in the grate. Will sank into the wingback armchair before it and put his feet up on the ottoman. Mud dripped off his boots, staining the fabric, but he was so exhausted that he could not care less.

It had been a long night for the pair. They began the night simply patrolling and wandering aimlessly, dispatching one or two stray demons and reminding some drunken Downworlders to stay in line. The night waned and the pea soup fog grew thicker, and the boys wanted nothing more than to return to the Institute and snuggle down in their warm beds.

But that was when they noticed the mass of slimy worm-like creatures slithering out of an Underground station. Seeing as this was something out of the ordinary, the boys investigated. The worms followed them and joined the main colony to form a massive Vermithrall demon.

The boys fought hard. It was not easy to kill a Vermithrall demon. Each time they managed to separate some worms from the mass, they simply returned to the main body. They killed many but it seemed like more kept taking their place.

Jem had suggested retreat several times but Will refused. For one thing, he preferred to face this demon than to go back out in the fog; who knew what other monstrosity would be lurking in it.

At last, they had a lucky break when they heard the sound of smashing glass and realised that the demon had knocked over several oil-filled lanterns placed, no doubt, by unlucky maintenance men working in the tunnel just before the demon arrived.

"Strike a match!" Will called to Jem. He held the demon off as his parabatai knelt and pulled a matchbox out of his pocket. "Hurry up!"

There was a swoosh and then a sea of flames rose before them. The demon seemed to forget the boys and was breaking apart into its worm components in an attempt to escape the fire. The boys stomped hard on the worms, killing as many as they could. Then Jem grabbed Will by the arm and dragged him out of the tunnel.

They made it out just in time before a huge explosion sent flames shooting out. The boys were knocked off their feet by the force of it but they managed to escape injury. They looked at each other and decided it was time to call it a night.

Now, Will sat by the small, tame fire in the drawing room and kicked his dirty boots off. They would make a mess on the carpet when they landed but he did not care. He was so comfortable by the fire. He told himself he would sit for a moment before he went to clean up. Just a moment… he told himself as he drifted off to sleep.

It felt like barely 10 minutes before he was shaken awake. He reluctantly forced his eyes open and beheld the grey eyes of Tessa Gray.

"Get up, Will. I have a marvellous idea," she excitedly told him.

"Leave me alone," he groaned. "Go bother someone else." He threw his arm over his face as if by blocking the sight of her she would go away.

It didn't work. "Get up!" Tessa insisted.

There was the sound of footsteps and then Will heard Jem say: "If she dragged me up at the crack of dawn, you can get up too, William."

"It isn't the crack of dawn; it's nearly eight o'clock," Tessa said.

Will turned to look at the window. The shades were pulled back but it was still a uniform grey outside. "The sun's not up," he protested.

"It's the fog. The sun never rose today," Tessa informed him. "I assure you, it's eight o'clock."

Will groaned again and then pulled himself up from his slouch. "Fine, what do you want?" he scowled.

Jem sat in the armchair next to him. His parabatai had washed off the filth of the night before, but it looked like he had dressed hastily. He had dark circles under his eyes and it seemed like he was only half awake.

Tessa, on the other hand, was fully dressed in a cheerful blue dress. She sat on the clean ottoman before Jem. "Thanksgiving is tomorrow and I'd like to celebrate it," she said eagerly. "And I'd like for all of you to celebrate it with me."

"What is Thanksgiving?" Jem asked curiously.

"It's an American festival," Tessa explained. "It started out as a day to mark the harvest festival celebrated by our Pilgrim Fathers. Now, we take it as a day to give thanks for the blessings we have received through the past year, a day to be with friends and… family, and just be thankful."

"That sounds lovely," Jem noted. "Don't you think so, Will?"

"It's a mundane festival. We," Will announced imperiously, "are not mundanes."

"You celebrate Christmas," Tessa pointed out.

"We have a party and exchange presents. We don't celebrate the birth of the baby Jesus," Will clarified.

"Well, then you can do that for Thanksgiving too," Tessa decided. "We can have a party and presents and a turkey feast."

Will perked up a little at the word "presents". "All right then," he conceded. "What do we have to do?"

"Well," Tessa considered. "We have to get food. That's the most important part of Thanksgiving."

"I would have thought giving thanks was the most important part. You mundanes are so queer," Will interrupted.

"You wanted a party, didn't you?" Tessa demanded. "What's a party without food?"

"Presents," Will reminded her. "A party must have presents. I refuse to go to take part in any mundane festival that didn't have presents."

"Very well, I will get you a present," Tessa agreed in exasperation. She took a deep breath and continued: "We need a turkey, and stuffing, and cranberry sauce. Corn, mashed potatoes, rolls and, of course, pumpkin pie and apple pie."

Jem got up then and went to a side table. He opened a drawer and pulled out a pad of paper. "I think I'd better write all that down," he suggested with a small smile.

Tessa stopped her recital, embarrassed at her enthusiasm. "I apologise, Jem, I forgot you don't have Thanksgiving here."

"Don't be. It sounds like fun," Jem assured her. He made her repeat her list, which he wrote down in his neat handwriting. "I'll give this to Bridget. We'll see what we can do to make all this a reality."

Will did not think the smile on Tessa's face could get any wider. But it did, and it brightened up her features, making her look a hundred times more pretty than usual.

"Get up, Will," Jem ordered. "Go take a bath. You're filthy. We have a lot to do if we are going to make this party happen by tomorrow night."


	2. Chapter 2

Tessa was ecstatic when Charlotte agreed to her plan to hold a Thanksgiving party at the Institute. The older woman was a little apprehensive about the party being the next day, and worried that it was not enough time to prepare. But Tessa's enthusiasm convinced her.

The boys went with her to talk to Bridget, who was also uncertain about it. It was a lot of extra work for her. Tessa immediately volunteered the services of the two boys and Bridget agreed to it instantly. Will's face was like thunder as they left the kitchen.

That was how Will ended up stuck in the kitchen all day peeling potatoes. The potatoes seemed endless. He peeled enough for an army, he thought, but when Bridget checked on him, she shook her head and piled on more for him to peel. After he had peeled enough to her satisfaction, he put them all into a big cauldron filled with water, which he had to fetch, and let them boil.

As they were boiling, Bridget set him to shelling peas. This was not as bad, and Will, loathe as he was to admit it, enjoyed the snap of the pea pods and the satisfying pop as he scraped the peas out with his thumb.

Just as it felt as though his thumb might be dislocated from the sheer number of pea pods, Bridget called a halt and placed the potatoes before him to mash. Will sulked but the task suited his mood. He mashed away angrily at the spuds, ferociously dashing in salt, pepper, milk and butter as directed.

Throughout all this, Bridget was ceaselessly singing her mournful ballads.

 _There lived a wife at Usher's Well, and a wealthy wife was she;  
She had three stout and stalwart sons, and sent them over the sea.  
They hadna been a week from her, a week but barely ane,  
When word came to the carline wife, that her three sons were gane._

The more Will listened, the more he wanted to grab the potato peeler and stab the cook with it. Either that or drown himself in the huge cauldron. Between the potatoes and the singing, he felt like he was slowly but surely going insane.

Tessa had taken Jem with her to go shopping at the Borough Market. They had returned shortly after lunch laden with bags full of groceries. From Jem's slightly stunned expression, it seemed that Tessa had gone wild at the market and bought a tonne of food. They unpacked corn, more peas, vegetables, cranberries, two pumpkins and practically a bushel of apples. Jem was carrying a huge packet wrapped in newspaper, which was revealed to be a very dead turkey, feathers and all.

"What exactly am I supposed to do with this?" Bridget demanded, poking a wooden spoon at the bird. Tessa, still wearing her hat and gloves, carefully explained the process of brining the turkey, preparing the stuffing and then roasting it. After Tessa finished, Bridget looked pointedly at the bird and then at Will. Her reluctant kitchen assistant got the message and fell to plucking the massive bird.

Jem was given the task of chopping vegetables, coring the apples and scraping out the pumpkins. Bridget hovered over them, supervising, as she worked on pastry and also their upcoming meals.

The boys were again exhausted by the time dinner came round. Will felt like he would rather have another go with that Vermithrall demon – all by himself and armed only with a carving knife – than see another potato, pea pod or turkey. He even had feathers in his hair. He went straight to bed after dinner and was dead to the world until the next morning.

The next day, Will was again relegated to the kitchen. Again, more peas and potatoes and brussels sprouts. His arms felt like they were going to fall off. He did not see Jem all morning and he wondered what his parabatai was up to.

The boy wandered into the kitchen after lunch, bringing in a waft of fresh air. "You smell like you've been outside," Will commented from his station by the fire, where he was turning the turkey to roast it.

"I have," Jem said. "Tessa wanted me to get decorations. She and Jessamine are putting them up in the dining room now."

"She managed to get _Jessamine_ involved?" Will asked incredulously.

"I don't see why you're surprised," Jem remarked. "After all, Jessamine is all for anything of the mundane world. However, I do find it gratifying to see her taking an interest in the goings on in the Institute."

Bridget kept the boys busy all the way until dinner time. She released them on Tessa's order, so they could have a bath and dress. Will, at least, was never more grateful.

When he entered the dining room later, he let out an involuntary gasp of surprise. There were green wreaths hanging from each pillar, each tied with a large festive red ribbon. Witchlight stones were placed strategically to give the most illumination without taking away from the ambience. In the middle of the table was a wicker basket woven in the shape of a horn. It was overflowing with flowers and fruits.

"Do you like it?" Tessa's voice sounded behind him.

Will pulled his game face back on. "It's nothing to write home about," he said without looking at her. He heard her huff. She came round to take her seat at the table, and Will had his breath taken away again by the sight of her, dressed up beautifully in a purple gown.

The other members of the Institute gradually entered and sat around the table. Bridget and Sophie began serving, placing platters of steaming vegetables around. Then, Bridget brought the turkey out to cries of surprise and amazement. The bird was roasted to perfection and it smelled mouth-wateringly delicious. Henry got up to carve and the stuffing burst out as he did so.

When everyone had received a generous helping, Tessa stood and said that she wished to speak. Everyone fell silent.

"First," she began, "I would like to thank all of you for helping me to set up this party. It is a little bit of home, for me, and I hope you enjoy this little bit of American culture as well."

"Hear, hear!" Henry agreed.

"Thanksgiving is a very special time for us, Americans," Tessa continued. "It's a time for us to reflect on our blessings and to be grateful for them. And so I would like to thank you all for everything you have done for me in these past months. I was alone and friendless, and you took me in, gave me a home, and made me a part of your family here. Thank you, all of you – Charlotte, Henry, Jem, Will, Jessamine, Sophie, Bridget – all of you have been so kind and generous to me. I have been so blessed and so lucky to have met you. Just… Thank you all, from the bottom of my heart."

There was a round of applause as Tessa concluded her speech. Charlotte could be seen wiping a tear from her eye. But Tessa had not yet sat. She continued: "If I may, I would like to read you a poem that my Aunt Harriet used to recite every Thanksgiving.

 _For the hay and the corn and the wheat that is reaped,  
For the labour well done, and the barns that are heaped,  
For the sun and the dew and the sweet honeycomb,  
For the rose and the song and the harvest brought home -  
Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving!_

 _For the trade and the skill and the wealth in our land,  
For the cunning and strength of the workingman's hand,  
For the good that our artists and poets have taught,  
For the friendship that hope and affection have brought -  
Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving!_

 _For the homes that with purest affection are blest,  
For the season of plenty and well-deserved rest,  
For our country extending from sea unto sea;  
The land that is known as the 'Land of the Free' -  
Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving!"_

There was another round of applause when she was done. The dinner party was a merry one, as everyone praised the food, ate their fill and talked about the good things that had happened in the past year. Laughter and mirth filled the room, and for once, there was no squabbling at the table between anyone. Will attributed this to Jem. His parabatai seemed to have been infected with Tessa's enthusiasm and was doing his best to live up to the spirit of the American festival, and steering the conversation away from touchy topics. Even Jessamine seemed a lot less sour than usual.

All in all, the dinner seemed like a success, until it was over and everyone went to the drawing room to rest and digest the enormous meal.


	3. Chapter 3

After finishing their large slices of pumpkin pie and apple pie, washed down with lashings of cream and glasses of white port, the group went to the drawing room where they all collapsed into chairs with satisfied groans.

"Tessa, thank you for organising that party," Charlotte said from the sofa where she was seated next to Henry. "It was lovely. It's been a long time since we all sat down together and just talked. And all that food. It was delicious. Thank you for sharing this Thanksgiving festival with us."

Tessa blushed slightly. "It was nothing; a little selfishness on my part to feel a bit more American again. I was afraid you would find it too sentimental."

Will opened his mouth to agree with her but was stopped by Jem placing a hand firmly over it.

"I enjoyed myself," Jem assured her, ignoring Will struggling against him. "Sometimes it's good to indulge in a bit of sentiment."

"Will looks like he wishes to speak," Jessamine remarked.

"Do you really want me to allow him to speak freely, Jessie?" Jem asked slyly. Will began slapping Jem's hand. "Will Herondale? The man who scoffs at sentiment of any kind?" Will began to protest loudly, though his words were muffled.

"I think you'd better had," Charlotte decided. "It looks like he might explode if you restrain him further. Thank you for the thought anyway, Jem."

Jem released Will, who immediately shot to his feet away from his parabatai and adjusted his jacket. "You are such a disloyal bastard, James," he said. "To think, you're supposed to be my brother and yet you try to prevent me from speaking when I wish to."

"This is what I was afraid of," Jem muttered.

Will smiled an angelic smile that was probably how Lucifer looked immediately before he fell into hell. "Jem, why don't you go and get your violin so you can serenade us with one of your ghastly songs?" he suggested. His tone, however, brooked no argument. Jem shook his head in a gesture of giving up and left the room.

Will waited until Jem had completely gone and the door was shut behind him before he said: "Right, now that my keeper is gone, it behoves me to say a few words. But first, Tessa," he turned to her. She eyed him warily. "I was promised presents," he said pointedly.

She relaxed. "Oh, it's in my room. Shall I get it for you?"

Will waved her down. "No, don't bother. I should have known your little American head would not think of conveniencing others by bringing it with you when you came down."

"Will, honestly, I side with Jem on this: If you have nothing nice to say, please don't say anything," Jessamine said cattily.

"Oh Jessie, I see you're being lovely as always," Will said, turning to her. "And what a beautiful dress you have on. It shows off your erinaceous nature perfectly." Jessamine frowned as she attempted to decide whether he had just complimented or insulted her.

"Will, stop it. What's gotten into you?" Tessa ordered.

He immediately turned on her. "Just turkey, potatoes and pie, among other things," he answered. "My dear Tess, may I saw how much I do so admire how you manage people? It's so different for a person of your sex. Not at all like a Billingsgate fish wife, oh no. You are uniquely in a class of your own."

Tessa leaped to her feet. "That's it; I'm not giving you a present any longer. I will not stand to be insulted, just when I'm trying to do something nice."

"Then sit, by all means," Will suggested gesturing towards a chair.

"You…!"

Jem re-entered at this point, clutching his violin in his hand. His cat Church slid into the room too. It went straight to the chair Will had vacated and lay down. Jem observed his two friends standing and glaring at each other. "Will, what did you do?" he sighed.

"Why do you assume it is I who did anything?" Will asked.

" _Did_ you?"

"I refuse to answer that question."

"Did he?" Jem addressed this to the rest of the room. Everyone nodded. "Oh Will, can't I leave you alone for five minutes without you stirring up trouble?" Will opened his mouth to answer but Jem cut him off with a gesture. "Please, just go sit down."

Will did so with bad grace. He attempted to remove Church from his seat but gave up after the cat tried to scratch and bite him. He took a seat in a corner next to a plant and propped his feet up on the plant pot.

"I hope you all forgive Will," Jem said. "We all know he can be belligerent and frankly annoying at times…"

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here, James," Will called from his corner.

"Hush!" Jem admonished. Will, surprisingly, fell quiet . Jem continued: "As I was saying, he can be annoying, but I think we can all agree that if it weren't for him, our lives would be a lot more dull." There was a reluctant but collective nodding at that statement. "So, thank you, Will. I, for one, am grateful that you are in my life." He shuffled awkwardly for a moment then said: "Will would never admit it, but I have no qualms saying this: I am thankful for what we have here at the Institute. It's offered, not just myself but all of us, a home when we most needed it. I found a family in all of you, when I thought I had none. So, in honour of this Thanksgiving festival, I've prepared a little song. It's not much, but I think it sufficiently represents my feelings and, perhaps, Will's too. So, William, if you would, please, come up here." He took a piece of paper out of his pocket.

Will looked surprise. "Now you want me to talk?"

"Just take the paper and read it when I give you the cue," Jem instructed. Will snatched the paper from his parabatai and stood at the side, reading it over. As he did so, Jem lifted the violin and tucked it under his chin. He began to play.

It was a delicate melody of individual notes sounding clear and sweet like bells. There was a lonely clarity to them, beautiful as a single star in the dark night sky. Closing their eyes, they could see a boy alone on the deck of a ship in the middle of the cold ocean. The music swelled and more notes joined in, forming a pattern that was familiar and comforting. The music evoked everyday images – the crackle of a fireplace, breakfast time, Charlotte's affectionate scolding, Henry's absent mindedness and even Will's taunting and teasing.

The music simmered down and Jem nodded to Will to begin reading:

 _Some days, we forget to look around us.  
Some days, we can't see the joy that surrounds us.  
So caught up inside ourselves; we take when we should give._

 _So, for tonight, we pray for what we know can be  
And on this day, we hope for what we still can't see.  
It's up to us to be the change  
And even though we all can still do more  
There's so much to be thankful for._

 _Even with our differences, there is a place we're all connected.  
Each of us can find each other's light._

 _So, for tonight, we pray for what we know can be  
And on this day, we hope for what we still can't see  
It's up to us to be the change  
And even though this world needs so much more,  
There's so much to be thankful for._

There was silence as Jem brought the music to a soothing conclusion. Then Tessa began clapping and the room filled with applause and remarks of praise for the beautiful song. Jem stood next to Will and bashfully thanked everyone who complimented him. Will just put his hands in his pocket and sulked.

Then, Sophie entered the room. "Mrs Branwell," she addressed Charlotte. "A message just delivered. A cluster of Kuri demons was seen terrorising mundanes in Waltham Forest. Back up is required."

Charlotte got up, puffing herself up to deal with the situation. "Henry, Jem, Will, put your gear on and arm yourselves," she ordered. "Duty calls."

 **THE END**

* * *

 **Happy Thanksgiving to my American friends!**

 **This story is my little present to you all to thank everyone who has taken the time to read my stories and send me reviews. It means a lot to me. I hope you guys enjoyed this story and also had a great day with your family and friends today. As always, please review! I'll see you guys around. :)  
**


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